Watchful Hands
by Zabby
Summary: Someone targets a member of Gibbs' team for the method of their revenge. Will Gibbs find them in time? For the lovely driftingatdusk, who asked for: Het – Gibbs/Abby – Quarantine situation in Abby's lab.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Watchful Hands

Author: Zabby

Rating: FR-18

Pairing: Abby/Gibbs

Category: Abby/Gibbs, Team!fic, Romance, Suspense, Drama

Spoilers: None

For: For the lovely driftingatdusk, who asked for: Het – Gibbs/Abby – Quarantine situation in Abby's lab. They both don't have to be there but there should be some shippy element. (Any season, no rating limit, no length limit)

Summary: Someone targets a member of Gibbs' team for the method of their revenge. Will Gibbs find them in time? Set after 02x04, Lt. Jane Doe. The first line of dialogue is from 02x04, but the rest of the dialogue is mine.

Chapter 1

"I'm really good," she called into the headset as Gibbs hung up on her, her fingers grabbing the microphone. Releasing it in exasperation, Abby Sciuto turned to the man in her lab. "Why does he do that, Ducky? Why does he just hang up instead of saying goodbye?"

"That remains, my dear girl, one of the great mysteries surrounding Leroy Jethro Gibbs," the medical examiner replied enigmatically, stepping away from the polarizing light microscope. "There you go, my dear. The cross polars should be centering now."

He smiled as the girl ran up to the microscope. "Excellent, Duckman! Wow, I don't think it's ever looked this good. You're better than those tech people I have to call up when something goes hinky. I should have you down here more often."

"I am simply pleased my solution worked out for you." A little lost, Ducky looked around the forensic lab, almost seeming to try to find something else to fix for her. "Well, I should probably get back to autopsy. If there's anything else you need…"

"Actually, Ducky. I'm going to need some dinner later. Care to swing back here and come with me to dinner? My treat?" After Gibbs had pointed out Ducky's melancholy mood, Abby was determined to spend as much time as she could with her friend. She hated to see him so sad.

"I would love to accompany you, my dear. But I'm going to have to insist on it being my treat. After all, I get the pleasure of your company." He smiled as the girl, who always seemed to tower over him, put her arm around him. Ducky was always amazed that Abby never seemed to trip or fall over in those leather contraptions she insisted on calling boots. In fact, she was graceful as no one else could be.

"And I get the pleasure of yours. I just need a few more hours to set up this evidence to process, then I'm all yours." Squeezing him in her one-armed hug, she added, "That is of course unless the team brings me back something major. But even then, we can figure something out, 'kay Duckman?"

"Sounds delightful, Abby. I will find you later then."

Dinner out turned into a picnic in as Abby was suddenly pressed to run DNA matches on the team's current case. Knowing Gibbs' needs and demands almost before he did, she set to work running the comparisons herself. Instead of weeks to turn around the DNA results, Abby would do it in a much shorter time frame.

Punching in the number for autopsy, she pressed the speaker button, waiting for Ducky to answer.

"Autopsy," came the clipped, Scottish tones through the amplifier.

As she lowered the volume to her stereo, she turned towards the phone. "Ducky, it's Abby."

"Ah, my dear. Are you ready for dinner?" he asked absently, putting away his notes and signing off on forms that concluded another autopsy.

"Actually, Ducky, I think this is going to be a late night for me. Would you mind if we picnicked in my lab? Or we could postpone it if you want…" Abby hated to change their plans, especially considering the emotional rollercoaster her friend was on.

"No, no, Abby. Canceling is out of the question. You know I do not mind spending time with you in your lab. You are quite in your element down there, my dear girl. And I enjoy working alongside of you. I will head out and grab some dinner for us. We will have a lovely time staying in as it were."

"Can't wait, Ducky," came the automatic reply. She really was looking forward to having a picnic with him, but the urgency of the case was pushing at her. Who was she kidding? Gibbs was pushing at her.

Having ordered a varied selection of choices from a nearby Chinese restaurant the team visited regularly, Ducky was almost to her lab when something stopped him. Standing in the shadows of the hallway, Gibbs was staring into the lab watching Abby work, presumably on the evidence she had mentioned earlier. Normally, when in the midst of a case that was pushing them all to the brink of exhaustion, Gibbs would drop off what he needed to have done, bark out some orders and head back to the bullpen. But something about this night had Gibbs changing his routine.

Perhaps it was the way she moved or the way she was dancing to her music as she processed evidence. Perhaps it was simply her joy of life and dedication to her work drew him to her, moth to flame. Perhaps his attraction was as effortless as she was Abby and he was Gibbs. Whatever it was had his piercing eyes locked on the dark-haired girl within.

Ducky stayed perfectly still, observing Gibbs watching Abby. He didn't want to interrupt the scene. There was a delicate intimacy about the moment that tugged at his heart. As Ducky tried to find a gentle way of making his presence known, Gibbs turned towards him, the blue eyes carrying a measure of sadness that only seemed to grip Gibbs in quiet, unguarded moments. It took only the smallest instant for him to recognize Ducky and to close down, his face becoming the hard mask the world was more used to seeing.

With an almost menacing threat to his walk, Gibbs moved closer to the other man, growling. "Did you need something, Doctor?" He only used Ducky's title when he was pissed off. Though he wasn't really pissed this time, just embarrassed at being caught watching Abby. He'd been about to walk into her lab, demanding evidence or at least some progress, when he had seen her working. There was something so beautiful as her hands wandered over the equipment that he would find himself standing in the shadows, watching her movements, the serenity of her face. He needed that peace to settle him when a case was particularly rough, and he would find himself hovering outside her lab more often than not, far more often than he would ever admit. Centering himself with her presence would let his mind find the answers, the connections he needed.

"Not at all, Jethro. I was just bringing Abigail some dinner for a picnic we were planning together in her lab. Would you care to join us?" Ducky offered, though he already knew the other man's response.

"No…Duck," Gibbs responded, a little too quickly, the slight hesitation in his voice telling the doctor that the truth was anything but. "Thanks anyhow. Have to run. You get anything more from the newest body?" Seeing the medical examiner shake his head negative, Gibbs moved away towards the elevator. "Let me know if that changes, Ducky."

"Of course, Jethro. Of course." Ducky replied, a knowing smile coloring his lips. "Perhaps next time."

Leaving Jethro to his thoughts, Ducky turned around and made his way into the forensics lab. "My dear, I bring sustenance," he called out, seeing for himself what had Gibbs so enthralled.

The music blaring from the speakers was jazz, letting him know that her concentration was high. She probably would have never known of Gibbs' silent presence outside of her lab. Her hips, encased in a black leather skirt, a change from earlier, swayed to the sultry, pulsing music. Bent over at the waist, her hands worked over the evidence, picking out what she needed, pulling to her items that drew her. Her philosophy of discovery: let the evidence speak to you.

Picking up an empty plastic vial, she swung around, laughing as she jerked to a stop. "Ducky! You surprised me." She grabbed her remote control, turning the music down. "Mmm…Chinese. Smells delicious. Come on! I set up a table in front of the plasma. We can have mood lighting from the search as we eat." 

She took one of the bags from him, putting her nose inside. "Wow, I'm hungrier than I realized. You have excellent timing, as always." Linking her arm through his now free one, she led him to the table.

Moving together, they set up the dinner, pulling out food, plates, silverware. Grabbing a Caf-Pow from the refrigerator, Abby settled next to him. "We haven't done this in awhile, Ducky. I've missed our little picnics."

"As have I, Abby. But alas, more times than not, work takes precedence over anything else." Pulling apart his chopsticks, he asked, "So, my dear. What have you been working on this evening?"

In between bites, she answered him. "Running DNA and the other evidence the team brought down to me. After the DNA processes, I'm hoping we find a match among the samples I've got working: the semen from both rapes, the DNA from the hair on the brush McGee brought me, or from the note. I haven't found DNA on the second note, but I'm also comparing paperweight, the cotton percentage in the paper, ink composition, and I've sent out copies of the note to this guy that I met to see if my initial impression of the handwriting was correct."

Taking a breath, she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. Just kinda have a lot processing right now."

"It's okay, my dear." He sought to reassure her. "I enjoy hearing about your work."

"Well in that case," she said, winking at him. "I have all the DNA processing now. Normally, it can take days or weeks for a traditional lab to get results. But if I run the tests, I can get the matches, or lack thereof, back a lot sooner. A couple of days, max. Personally, I'm hoping for a day or just a little over."

"I must say, I'm impressed. And grateful. I know you don't do this kind of work on all your cases."

"No, not really. But this case is different. We need answers as soon as possible. Otherwise, the guy could disappear for another ten years. And maybe…" She hesitated, not knowing how sensitive Ducky would be about the subject. "Maybe we can find the answers for you. You know, who Jane Doe is. Was. Find some closure for you and her family."

The doctor's eyes grew misty at Abby's thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Abby."

They progressed through dinner, each comfortable in the company of the other. Ducky told amusing tales of his youth, causing fits of laughter from his dinner companion. Abby, in turn, told a few of the tamer, albeit still wild, stories of her nights out. Occasionally, one of the members of Gibbs' team would stop by to check on Abby's progress and to steal a few bites of food, though Gibbs himself never made an appearance.

Before they realized how much time had passed, the evidence called for Abby's attention, and Ducky took that moment to clean up the remainders of the picnic. With a promise to return in the morning, he took his leave from her, escaping to give himself some time to think.

The case wrapped up smoothly, if not strangely, after that. The DNA Abby was pressured to run provided a bizarre twist on the investigation. And while Ducky's original Jane Doe would remain unrevealed, he at least had the closure of having her murderer identified.

With a slight smile on her lips, Abby moved around the lab, cleaning and prepping for the next case to come in. Her hyper-vigilance ensured that her findings would never be questioned in court because of sloppy forensics. She picked up her Caf-Pow! as she walked by, looking around the lab and checking to make sure everything was in order. Hips swaying to the latest _Airbourne Toxic Event_ album, she turned around, intent on getting ready to leave and froze.

Abby's heart was suddenly in her throat at the sight of a gun trained on her chest held by a shaking hand. In shock, she dropped her Caf-Pow!, the red liquid, spilling over her shoes and across the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Gibbs!_ His name was a scream inside her head. She needed him, her protector. Instinctively, Abby scrambled backward towards the intercom, instinct demanding she call for help, for him. But she stopped as the gun followed her movements.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you. I don't plan on killing you, at least not yet. I want the others to know…"

Abby knew her captor, knew that face. She just couldn't remember. Was it a case? A club? Had she run prints and came up with that face as a result? It was recent, that much Abby remembered. There was something about those eyes. Eyes that were empty, hollow, desperate. And they terrified Abby.

"To know what? What do you want from me?" Abby could hear her own desperation color her words.

"From you?" An insane giggle was her answer as the intruder stepped closer. The gun was pressed along Abby's jawline, moving towards her red lips. "I don't want a thing from you, Abigail Sciuto. I just want the pleasure of your company. However, I'm afraid my stay at NCIS will be short lived, and you're going to come with me. Before we go, there are a few things we need to do, to insure we're not followed too quickly…"

Something was wrong. Gibbs could feel it in his gut. He was anxious, and he was never anxious. It was like he forgot to do something, something important. As he searched his memory for what could have him so restless, Gibbs started pacing, coffee in hand. He took a drink and froze as an orange light started flashing. Looking around, he tried to figure out exactly what was locked down.

Anticipating the request, DiNozzo hit the speed dial and started talking low into the receiver. "It's the lab, Boss. Abby's lab is under quarantine."

Gibbs' blood ran cold at Tony's words. With a glance, he looked over at the face recognition scan he was running. Was the bastard back? He stood up, barking at his other agent.

"McGee! Pull up the lab on the plasma."

The youngest agent scrambled to do as he was ordered, fumbling the clicker in his haste. With a glare from his boss, Tim got himself together and brought up the first camera. But all he could pull up on the plasma screen, regardless of which camera he tried, was just an error message and snow.

Gibbs moved in, invading McGee's personal space as he growled. "What is this, McGee? Get Abby's lab up. Now!"

"B…boss. This is Abby's lab. The surveillance cameras…none of them are working." With a panic born of fear for his friend and fear of his boss, McGee ran to his computer and started to type frantically.

"What the hell is going on? Get me a line of sight into her lab, McGee." Picking up his phone, he pressed the speed dial for Abby's main phone. When her voice answered the phone, he felt the stress leave his body until he realized it was a voice recording.

"Hey guys. It's Abby. Um…something spilled so I'm going to be…out of reach for a few…hours. Don't come down. Okay. I'll call you when the lab is…safe again."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed at the stress he heard in her voice. Why would she leave a message instead of calling herself? Why were the cameras all malfunctioning? Why the quarantine alarm? What the hell was going on? His gut was screaming at him.

Something was wrong,


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Get in," came the order, which Abby was quick to follow. Scrambling across the passenger seat and over the gearshift, she hesitated in the driver seat, moving towards the handle to make a break for it. But the gun pressed into her side brought that movement up short.

"Don't think about it. I'm not done with you yet."

A shiver of fear snaked up her spine as she turned to face her kidnapper. The eyes that stared back at her were dead, cold and empty. A blur whipped up to Abby's face, and her head was thrown back as the pistol cracked across her mouth. She cried out as the pain burst from her split lip, blood trickling down her chin.

A whimper escaped her, her head lifting as she tried to clear her vision. The gun returned to press against her temple, forcing her to meet her capture's eyes again.

"If you do that again, if you try to escape, I will do far more than split your lip open with this gun. Do you understand?"

Abby nodded slowly, fear freezing her blood cold. She wasn't Kate, wasn't Tony. She didn't know how to respond with a gun pushing against her skin. And she was scared. So scared. She wanted to be back in the lab, dancing to her music and looking forward to a kiss and a Caf-Pow! from Gibbs. Trembling as shock started to set in, Abby clasped the steering wheel as her kidnapper began to give her instructions.

Drilling a small hole into the floor above the lab, Gibbs couldn't shake the déjà vu that coursed through him. Last time, it was Ducky, Gerald, and Kate locked away, away from his protection. Was it Abby now? Was that bastard even now forcing Abby to…

Gibbs halted his thought process there, not willing to allow his imagination to lead him down a path towards madness. And if he started thinking of all the ways that bastard could hurt his Abby…

Holding up a hand, he indicated that he was through. The camera slid down the hole, while McGee brought up the computer screen. Gibbs moved the camera, twisting it to allow for an unobstructed view of the forensic lab. There was nothing. No Abby. No intruder. Nothing. What was going on?

He lifted his wrist, allowing the microphone he had hidden there to come near his lips. "Now, Tony."

Below him and on screen, Gibbs watched as Tony and Kate burst through the door, clearing the room as they went. Space by space, room by room, the two cleared the lab. Finding nothing, Special Agent DiNozzo walked underneath the hole Gibbs had drilled into the ceiling.

"Nothing, Boss. There's nothing here. No spill. Well, there's a Caf-Pow! spill near her chair, but no chemicals. Nothing dangerous. And no Abby. Her bag is back there, next to her computer. It's like she just disappeared."

Gibbs could see the worry on his senior agent's face, something that was echoed by Kate behind him. They were all afraid, on different levels, of what had happened to the forensic scientist.

"On my way," was his only reply. Getting up from his crouched position on the floor, Gibbs slammed down the screen of the computer, uncaring as to what his rough manner would do to the equipment. He headed toward the stairs, the need to find Abby overcoming any other drive. As an after thought, he called out to his newest field agent. "Come on, McGee."

With the agent trailing behind him, Gibbs walked through the open door into Forensics. Normally a bright and borderline deafening room, the lab seemed dull somehow, lacking in the energy that breathed life into every corner. Without Abby, the lab was a clinical place, without spirit and color. It was almost as if her babies, as she liked to call her equipment, had seen what had happened to her.

He turned in his spot, looking for his senior agent. Spotting Tony examining something on Abby's computer stand, he barked out, "DiNozzo! Status!"

"Right, Boss. Nothing is out of place. There's no sign of a break-in, no sign of a struggle. Maybe she just…wanted some privacy."

Gibbs shook his head, not like that explanation. "If she wanted privacy, where is she? She could have just locked up and gone home. No, Abby wouldn't have locked down her lab in quarantine or left that message on her voicemail for privacy. This was intentionally designed to prevent us from coming down here. But why? Did she do it herself, or was she forced? McGee!"

"I'm going to examine Abby's hard drive and phone. Maybe I can find something there."

"Kate!"

"Gibbs, I'll dust for prints, take photos."

Before he could bark out his last agent's name, DiNozzo answered for him. "I'm going to go pull the tapes from the security cameras, see what they show."

All Gibbs could do was nod in response as his agents dispersed around him. "Where are you, Abby?"

Before the shadows could answer him, a shout drew his attention. "Boss!" It was McGee. "I've got something."

Rushing to his youngest agent's side, Gibbs peered over his shoulder. "Good work, McGee." He watched the video playing a scene that chilled him, though a part of him was grateful it was there at all. "Abbs."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Abby woke up in the dark, the rattling of a chain a cold reminder that she was still in danger. The air was cold, her breath a fog around her head. Slowly, careful to not make too much noise, she pushed herself into a sitting position, trying to absorb everything that had happened so far.

Looking around the room, she studied the furniture again. Somehow, Abby knew this bedroom, knew the arrangement of the furniture. She just couldn't figure out how. It was a bug in her mind, eating away at her curiosity and giving her something to focus on; something other than the situation she was in.

How long she had been a prisoner, Abby could no longer guess. A few days, a few weeks. Time had blurred together until she no longer knew night from day. The room she was kept in had no windows, no way for her to gauge time passing. She had a bed, a toilet and a chain. And time. Time to think. Time to mourn. Time to remember. Time to accept her fate.

Monotony ruled her life to the point she felt the four walls of her cement cage moving in on her. The only break in her day was when her captor came down to rain her rage down on Abby. Along her body were bruises and cuts, evidence of her treatment.

Abby believed in her friends, even in the dank hole she now lived in. She believed they would do whatever possible to rescue her. But how long could she hold out for them to find her? Would they find her or the remains of what she once was? She stopped her train of thought, knowing to not focus on the future. If she focused on the possibilities of what may happen, she put her sanity at risk. Instead, she lived in her mind and in the past, in her memories of them, of all the people she loved.

Her parents and brother would visit her, signing and laughing together. They would talk about summer trips and experiments Abby would perform on her brother. She would sign how much she loved and missed them, thankful that the chain was only around her ankle and not her hands. A small smile would form when her little brother would tease her about how she was no longer trying to escape. And her heart would break as she would have to tell them what her captor had done to her the last time she made it through the door alone. Her back still ached from the lashings. It served as her reminder of why she didn't try to escape anymore.

The team would visit her most often; Kate, Tony and McGee. Sometimes together, sometimes in pairs, sometimes alone. She loved those times. They were her soul-mates, she would tell them. The ones she was supposed to have in her life always.

McGee would stand next to her, talking about his latest conquest online, about a girl he was talking to, about how Tony wouldn't stop picking on him. But Abby knew that he really liked the attention, as much as Tony liked getting slapped on the back of the head by Gibbs.

Kate would hold her hand, and they'd talk. They shared memories of girl's night outs, spa weekends, and playing tricks on Tony. She was always sad and clingy when Kate came around, almost like she was the one in danger, not Abby.

Tony would put his arm around her shoulders and run his fingers through her hair. He'd always be the one to comfort her when she cried, when she was too weak no matter how hard she tried to be strong. He told her that she had to hang on, just a little while longer, that they were coming for her, that she just had to wait for Gibbs to find her. But it hurt too much for Abby to believe that anymore.

Sometimes, after the team had gone, there'd be a woman she didn't know. Abby couldn't see her face since she always stood in the shadows. But the unknown woman had dark wavy hair – the lamp on the bedside table lit the edges like fire – and she always wore cargo pants. Abby never understood who the woman was, or what she might represent, but was comforted by the stranger's presence, like she was protected somehow.

The visits that hurt the worst, the ones that she both feared and craved, were when Gibbs came to her. Her heart would ache when his sad blue eyes met hers. Gibbs always seemed so sad, unless he smiled. Then his eyes would light up. But when he came to see her, he never had a smile on his face. He blamed himself for her kidnapping. And even though he was only a hallucination born of deprivation, Abby soul yearned to reach out and comfort him.

They rarely spoke; she didn't want cheap words to invade their space, unable to adequately express what she was feeling. Instead, he would sit next to her on the bed and gather her close, his arms tight around her. She loved to nuzzle into his neck, seeking a warmth that was absent from both her prison and her soul. Sometimes, hot tears would trail down her cheeks and onto his skin. His lips would press against her temple and cheek as he murmured reassurances that he was coming for her. It only made her cry more and ache for something else.

She had a lot of time to think, locked away like she was. And she'd come to some conclusions about her life. She wanted to travel more. She had a mission to learn all of the ingredients in Caf-Pow! And most of all, she loved Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Not in the we're–colleagues-and-friends-and-love-spending-time-with-you way. No, the biggest thing she learned about herself was that she was in love with Gibbs in a head-over-heels-can't-get-enough-crave-the-sight-and-feel-of-you kind of way. She didn't know when or how it had happened, but somewhere along the way, she'd given her heart to him.

That was the one thing Abby talked about to hallucination-Gibbs. She talked to him about how she felt, how her body was tuned in with his, how she treasured the moments they'd had together, how special he made her feel. Hallucination-Gibbs would tell her the same, but the feelings always made her feel bittersweet. It really wasn't Gibbs telling her he wanted her; it was simply her imagination giving her what she wanted to hear. Which was why Abby hated the times Gibbs showed up. It only broke her heart to shattered bits when he left.

Hearing a noise at the door, Abby scrambled up to the top of the bed, knowing the visitor wasn't going to be a friend this time, wasn't going to be a figment of her fractured imagination. This visitor was real.

Her abductor was coming back.

It was a position he always seemed to find himself when waiting on a big case, standing in front of the plasma, coffee in hand. Only, he wasn't reviewing evidence or waiting for an update from one of his agents. This time, he was staring at the video of Abby, the last sighting of her before being abducted. And they knew now she'd been taken against her will.

Somehow, when Abby had been setting the lab's alarm for the quarantine and leaving the bizarre voicemail message that had tipped him off to something being wrong, his girl had set the webcam on her computer to record. And though they didn't have a great shot of the kidnapper's face, the gun pointing at Abby was clear in the screen.

Seeing a weapon trained on her had drained the color from his face the first time he'd watched the video. Now, it only served to fuel the fire in his gut. No one was supposed to threaten her like that. Abby should be safe in the lab, surrounded by her equipment and fingerprints, evidence and blood patterns, not held prisoner somewhere. She was still being held, that much Gibbs was sure of. It had been five days, three hours and twenty-seven minutes since Abby had disappeared. He refused to believe she was dead. He would know in his gut if she was gone. No, she was somewhere, scared, but alive. Waiting.

So, he watched the video feed she had managed to capture during her abduction, watched her face, strained with fear, and tried to find a way to locate her. Turning his gaze away from the plasma for a moment, Gibbs looked over his team. Kate was running up a profile of possible suspects, using the partial shot of the perp's face to try and form a sketch. Tony was working the phones, and McGee was tracking phone and electronic connections.

Gibbs turned back to the screen, freezing the video on the largest shot of the kidnapper. He knew that face. Clenching his jaw, he faced the bullpen, barking out at his agents. "What do we have? Someone, give me something. We know this bastard," he growled, pointing behind him. "How?"

Tony jumped out of his seat and ran to his boss' side. "Well, we know it's not a suspect or a previous arrest; I've run through every picture trying to match the face. Boss…I don't think that's a man."

At this point, Kate had come up to join them, her head tilted as she considered the stilled frame in front of her. "You know, I think Tony may actually be right. The jaw line is strong, but soft, curvier than a man's would be." Without thinking, she grabbed the clicker from Gibbs' hand, missing the look of anger shooting from his eyes.

Zooming in on a section of the screen, she gestured with her other hand. "Look at this dark spot. Up until now, we always assumed it was a shadow…"

Before she could finish her thought, Gibbs interrupted her. "You assumed, Agent Todd? Is this a normal occurrence during the course of an investigation, or are you making a special consideration in the search for Abby?"

"Gibbs!" His outburst stunned her, and it took her a moment to find her thought process again. "I only meant…it's not a shadow. Look," she offered, trying to draw his attention to the screen and away from shooting fire at her. "This looks like the end of a ponytail. See the curl? Tony's gotta be right. We're looking for a female suspect."

"A woman. A woman did this?"

Pointing at the agent who still remained in his desk, Gibbs bit out, "Run it, McGee. Every suspect, witness, agent, janitor, visitor, tourist, every single female who has come in contact with this agency, team, and Abby. Run it all. DiNozzo, Kate. Help him."

Like an explosion, the team jumped back into action, the two standing agents rushing to their desks. Playing the video again, Gibbs paused it on the last moment of Abby, his breath catching in his throat. "We're coming, Abbs. Just hold on." The clicks of keyboards and the drone of voices faded out until all he was focused on was her face. "I'm coming."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

He walked along a dark, cement hallway that stretched in front of him for what seemed like forever. A mist clung to the walls and floor like clouds of cobwebs. Doors spread out in an alternating pattern; once on the left, twice on the right, twice on the left, once on the right. Over and over, the doors dotted the walls.

Suddenly, he was overcome with the urge to hurry, the danger was coming and he had to protect her. Her? He didn't know who or where, but everything he cared for was in peril. His feet rushed underneath him as he tried to find the right door, the right entryway to his objective. Farther and father he ran, but no progress was made. The hall continued to stretch out in front of him as dread started to build. Time was flowing away from him.

He had to rescue her.

There, just ahead, was a light spilling from under the frame of a door, chasing away the mist. Reaching out, his hand grasped the cold doorknob, and he twisted, surprised when no sound came from the movement of the door. He stepped into the light, the warmth wrapping around his skin, relief stealing over him at the sight of her.

"Gibbs!" she gasped, the word filled with promise and relief. He stopped for a moment to take in the sight of her, to cherish the return of her into his life.

She sat on the bed, legs curled underneath her, her dark hair a raven's black curtain enveloping her body. He wasn't used to its length. He would have sworn it was shorter. But the sight of the thick tresses took his breath away. Dressed in a bridal white negligee, the hem of the sheer fabric playing along her thighs, she held out her arms for him, her eyes searing him with heat.

"Abbs," he sighed, her name a prayer of thankfulness.

Crossing the small room quickly, he glanced at a thick manacle and chain laid out on the floor. A part of his mind, the investigator part, screamed at the significance. But all thoughts of exploring the implication of the object was lost as he met her on the bed, pulling her to him. This time it was her turn to sigh as their bodies pressed against each other. He dug one hand into the think mass of hair, his other resting at the small of her back to pull her in tighter. Their lips met in a tangled mix of heat and passion, each vying for dominance over the other. But in the end, it would always be Gibbs who led the dance.

Bearing down on her, he kissed her with a need born of desperation and relief. She was finally in his arms where she belonged, away from any danger or threat. His tongue pushed its way inside of her mouth, teasing and demanding her own response. As she opened to him, he felt her hands pushing at the fabric of his clothes, her own desperation seeping through. To give her the room she needed, he shifted back only as far as necessary, not wanting any space between them.

Once his jacket and shirt had been removed, Gibbs lost what little patience he had left and closed the distance between them once again.

Abby slumped against the side of the bed, exhaustion from the latest round with her captor leaving her more drained than usual. It wasn't just the physical beatings; though they did, of course, take their toll. But it was also the mental and emotional beatings the woman put her through. The combination of mental and physical degradations every day left her desperate for sleep, for the cool darkness of oblivion.

Pulling herself up, she turned and sank onto the edge of the bed, reaching for the food and drink that was left for her. She drank deeply from the tea, pulling off a piece of bread to chew on. Sighing in relief, she finished off her supper, strangely grateful for the sustenance and the time to gather herself again.

When it seemed as though none of her hallucinations were coming to keep her company, Abby decided to sleep. In sleep, she had her dreams of what could have been, what might have been. As exhausted as she was, it wasn't long after she pulled the comforter over her shoulders that sleep pulled her under, her shackled leg hanging out from under the blankets.

A sound from the hall outside of her room had her wake and alert. Pulling her legs underneath her, Abby noticed first that the shackle was off. Had the woman come in when she was sleeping? Was that what woke her up? Normally, that knowledge would have frightened Abby. And it almost did, until she noticed what she wore. When did that happen? she wondered, as she looked down at the transparent negligee. Oh God! What was going to happen now?

Before panic could set in, a refreshing draft of cool air blew in a cloaking mist from the hallway. Looking up, Abby gasped in shock.

"Gibbs!"

At first, she thought he was there to rescue her. But the look in Gibbs' eyes had her body tensing in a different sort of manner. He approached her bed with a look for possession and heat. Her body responded with a will of its own, and she held out her arms for him. She felt the fire begin to build in the core of her when he sighed her name, and she knew a sense of peace at the wisdom of giving into her desire.

There was no hesitation in the meeting of their bodies, even if it was for the first time. It felt right, felt complete to have him in her arms. In a gesture born of need and desire, she opened up to him as he pressed his advantage, his tongue demanding her response. Quickly, it wasn't enough to feel his clothed body pressed against her. She needed all of him with nothing keeping them separate.

Pushing her hands at the fabric of his jacket, she managed to break into Gibbs' concentration so that he pulled back. She quickly divested him of the coat, her fingers slipping at her excitement when she began working on the buttons. Shivering from the desire heating up her veins, Abby managed to free the two parts of the shirt and had him undressed from the waist up. But before she could take further advantage of the space between them, Gibbs had decided he was done with patience.

Moving in, he laid her out on the bed, her naked hands exploring the hard planes of flesh she had exposed. She was hungry for the feel of him, for his strength. Gibbs closed the final distance between them and took her lips with his own, Abby's hands snaking up his back to feel the ridges and valleys. Sounds of pleasure – moans, groans, hushed whispers and louder sighs – filled the stillness of the cement room.

So distracted with her exploration, Abby failed to notice his hand moving up to cup her breast, fingers flicking her nipple taut through the laced fabric. The negligee both enticed and teased, offering a glimpse of the flesh but not allowing full contact. At the feeling of his fingers tugging and pulling, Abby arched into his hand, biting out his name with a moan.

Gibbs moved his mouth across her jaw and down her neck when she broke contact, nibbling and licking a path slowly across her skin. As his mouth got closer to her sensitive skin, she dug her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer toward the mounds of flesh waiting for his attention. The core of her grew wet in anticipation, the scent of her caressing the air around them.

Through the lace, he flicked his tongue at her nipple, smirking at the groan of frustration. He decided to stop the teasing for the moment and closed his mouth of the needing flesh. The sound of her cry and the tensing of her fingers in his hair pleased him beyond words. Focusing on pulling more of those sounds from her luscious lips, he worked his mouth against her skin.

While they both focused on the joys of her breasts, Gibbs pushed his palm down her body, enjoying the tug of the fabric as he moved. Once he found where her own flesh was no longer hampered by the lace, he changed directions, dipping his fingers under the nightie, pulling it up as his fingers made their way up to the hot core of her.

Abby was so distracted by the feel of his mouth on her breast, she missed his stealthy approach to the aching center of her. Missed his actions until all at once she nearly came off the bed as his fingers made a first teasing swipe at her throbbing flesh. Thrusting up against his hand, she cried out his name as he teased her oversensitive flesh.

Gibbs took her mouth against in the instant he plunged first one than two fingers inside of her hot core. As his thumb made circular passes at her clit, his other fingers slowly moved in and out of her, his mouth swallowing her moans and cries of pleasure. He smiled when her growing passion forced her to break away from their kiss and ground her mouth into his neck.

"Let it happen, Abbs. Let go." He thrust another figure inside of her and felt her climax tremble through her body as she exploded.

She clung to Gibbs as her body shook from her first climax. Collapsing on the bed, she looked up at him in amazement that he could bring her to such heights with a mere touch. With a smile of pleasure, she reached up and pulled him down next to her. She pressed his shoulders down so that he was the one laying on the bed.

Throwing a leg over his waist, she straddled him, leaning down to tease his lips with her own. Now that her first edge of passion had been soothed, she was determined to bring him to an equally dramatic and pleasurable end. She leaned down and nibbled along the corner of his mouth, teasing him by not allowing their lips to meet in full contact. Continuing down the side of his jaw, she paused at the base of his throat, licking at the pulse that beat there.

She resumed her slide down his body, her long hair a heavy blanket enveloping them. Hearing the catch in his breath, she nipped at his skin, hearing the answering groan from above. Her hand moved through her hair, and she lifted the heavy curtain to the side so that she could meet his eyes. Keeping her eyes locked with his, she started fingering the button of his pants, incredibly pleased at his responding growl and glare.

Knowing the playful state would only last so long, she quickly unbuttoned and unzipped him, pulling his pants and boxers off together. She took a moment to drink in her fill of him with her eyes. His manhood stood proud and arrogant from the juncture of his thighs, demanding attention, demanding her attention.

Unable to resist the increasing demand, Abby pressed her hands on his hips, slowly stroking the skin there. She lowered her head, hovering a breadth from contact. Flicking her tongue out, she tasted him for the first time, the glistening drop of his passion. The taste of him burst on her tongue, and she let out a little moan of pleasure before lowering the rest of the way. She took him slowly inside of her mouth, the sounds of his moans an accompaniment to her movements. As she took him deeper, she felt his hand bury itself in her hair, forcing her head up to meet his eyes as she sucked him in.

She brought a hand up to stroke him as she moved up and down his length, the sheer size of him overwhelming her mouth. The sensation was so delicious she moaned against him, the sound vibrating straight to his base. The answering growl and thrust of his body off of the bed had her repeating the sound as she sucked him faster, her eyes never leaving his.

His eyes soon grew desperate, and Abby knew that she couldn't wait any longer either. Releasing his flesh with an audible plop, she shifted over him, the tip of his cock teasing the entrance to her wet heat. Reaching down, she grasped the edge of her lingerie, pulling it slowly over her head to reveal to him her pearl shaded skin.

She hesitated for a heartbeat, resting her hand on his chest as she hovered, waiting a moment before that final coming together. It had been so long, such a long time of dreaming of being with him, of imagining what life would be like paired with such a man. She wanted to savor this first joining, to draw out every ounce of pleasure, every memory from being with him. Only he had other ideas.

His hands came up to anchor on her hips, and he thrust up, plunging his hard cock deep inside of her. Growling his approval, he held her still as he thrust several times, going deeper and deeper. His control only lasted so long before he needed to take control over their passionate drive. Quickly, he flipped them over so that she was on bottom. He leaned into kiss her deeply as she gasped in surprise at the sudden change in position.

She clung to his shoulders as her body started going out of control. The feel of him stretching her walls, filling her completely was beginning to drive her out of her mind. She needed him, needed more of him, all of him. Fingernails digging into the muscles of his back, she wrapped her legs around his waist, arching her back to encourage him to take more.

He needed little encouragement to take what was his. She had been his, had belonged to him for longer than either of them realized. And now, when it was almost too late, he was finally laying his claim. With one hand bracing his weight on the mattress and the other locked around her waist, he started moving harder, taking everything she gave, giving all that he knew she could take. Faster, he thrust, pounding inside of her as the sounds coming from her changed from moans to screams.

His growls grew louder, even more dominate than before. Her screams were more frantic, more out of control. They touched each other in a frenzy of passion and desperation, the knowledge that their time together was short driving their desire to reach the end together. But Gibbs demanded Abby's passion and desire completely, and she was swept away in her orgasm, though he was quick to join her since she demanded the same from him.

They clung to each other as their bodies cooled in the still air of the cement room, the only sounds the desperate draw of air into their lungs. He drew her into the circle of his arms, her mouth nuzzling his neck as she tried to draw every ounce of promise their connection had given to them. His hands stroked over her back, not wanting to stop, knowing there was something he had to do, something he had to ask her. As he tried to figure out just what he was supposed to do, he kissed her forehead, pulling her even tighter so that she was nestled ever closer.

Suddenly, Abby sat up, her hair no longer thick and luxurious but hanging in limp locks, greasy and dirty. Her body was no longer in its naked, pearl hued glory, but now covered in the dirty remnants of the clothes she was last seen in. Dirt smeared over her pale skin, she looked at him with eyes so sad he was sure his heart would break if he didn't help her somehow.

"Gibbs, help me. Please. Find me. I need you."

And then she was gone, her body evaporating into the mist that surrounded the bed.

"Abby!"

Gibbs shot up in his chair, looking around the bullpen. To say he was shocked to find himself back behind his desk would be an understatement. One minute he had Abby in his arms, the next she was crying for his help, and now he was back at NCIS.

Standing up, he looked around as the other agents scrambled to wake up. From the looks of them, it appeared they had all fallen asleep working at their desks to find Abby. So, what in the hell was he just doing? Dreaming? Was all of that, his time with Abby, only a dream?

As probable as that seemed, Gibbs couldn't believe it. It had been so real, so vibrant. It couldn't possibly have been a dream. He could still feel her under his hands, against his skin, could still taste her on his tongue. His body was still humming from their climax, his groin uncomfortable enough to let him know he wasn't done. Nothing had ever felt as real as that moment in time, that one simultaneous breathless moment with Abby.

"What is it, Boss?"

Still stunned, Gibbs looked over at DiNozzo, thankful again that he had long ago learned how to school his face to not show the emotions bubbling below the surface. Without that skill, he doubted he'd be able to camouflage the shock he was going through at his abrupt journey to consciousness.

And then suddenly, without preamble, everything clicked.

"I know who has Abby."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A bucket of freezing water, ice chips scraping against her skin, was splashed over Abby, sending her upright, coughing and sputtering the water from her mouth. Her ripped and soiled clothes clung to her in their newly wet state, and she gasped in shock at her attacker. Though she knew to do so would be futile, Abby couldn't help but ask, almost demand, the reason for this new assault.

"Wh…what? Why did you do that?"

The rigid back of the woman's hand cut across her mouth as the beginning of her answer, the slice of an engagement ring leaving a trail of red in its wake. "Because you are worthless, filthy. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think I wouldn't know?"

"Know? Know what?" Abby had no problem showing her honest confusion, though her chest sank into her stomach. She had done nothing to warrant another attack so early in the day. Normally, the woman waited until the afternoon to brutalize her. The only thing that could possibly have created such a reaction wasn't possible.

Last night had been a dream, hadn't it? And while it had been an amazing moment, a breath of something wonderful, none of it had been real. A simple firing of the neurons in her brain. Gibbs hadn't really come to her, hadn't found her, let alone…

Abby stopped her train of thought, suddenly fearful of what her captor knew. Had she spoken aloud in her sleep? Had she somehow let slip the moments her imagination had conjured up in Gibbs' arms?

"I see you are finally beginning to understand now. Maybe I haven't made myself clear before. Maybe I've been too nice." Pulling out a knife, she approached Abby, trailing the sharp edge against the pale skin of her prisoner's arm.

Abby again cringed away in fear. Before she had believed that she had reached the edges of her fear and had overcome the torment. But seeing the dull, yellow light glistening off that razor sharp edge, Abby was pushed far beyond what fear she had ever known.

"Please," she gasped, begging to be left uncut.

"Begging won't work. Just another lesson you're going to have to relearn." Leaning in, she dipped the knife under the sleeve and Abby's blouse and yanked up, slicing a clean cut through the fabric. Accompanied by Abby's whimpers, the woman knifed the rest of the clothes into thin strips, making sure there was nothing left Abby would be able to use to cover herself with, aside from whatever blankets she decided to leave behind. Along a few of the paths, red liquid appeared in thin lines. She had been careless on purpose, wanting her prisoner to know pain.

Shivering in the damp air, Abby asked one last time, "Why?" though she meant far more than just being stripped.

Ignoring the implicit and more immediate meaning, her abductor decided to follow Abby's lead with the question. "Because your team – your investigators, your medical examiners, you – you took away the only man who ever loved me. I've looked for someone for so long, and you drove him to kill himself, to slice his own throat."

Tears of pain and rage filled the young woman's eyes as she finished, "And for that alone, you suffer and will continue to suffer. We were happy, so happy. And you drove him away."

Turning away, she made her way to the door, stepping carefully over the think chain on the floor. She changed her mind as her hand was reaching for the door, and she turned back to Abby, quickly stepping next to the bed again. She reached down, digging her fingers into the black hair of her prisoner, her nails like talons. Without a work, she used her other hand to slice a piece of hair from Abby's head, wrapping her now loosened fingers around it.

Without another word, she turned to leave Abby cowering against the bed, in fear and cold, as her captive unexpectedly remembered.

"You…you were involved in a case a few weeks ago. A psycho was kidnapping and holding women hostage as his wife from the 'Good Wife's Guide.' You were his last victim, and we saved you."

Abby's head rocked back as she was struck, smacking against the headboard, pain bursting from multiple places. More blood dripped down her face, the beginnings of a bruise blossoming on her cheek.

"Brett was no a psycho. He was a good man, a great man. He loved me, and you took him from me. Brett killed himself because of you. And I will have revenge for his murder, if I have to extract it only from you. Granted, I'd prefer to kill all of your team. But I can make do you with you if I have to."

"Petty Officer Barbara Swain." The deadly calm would have sent most people cowering for cover. But having the chance to finally figure out who Abby's kidnapper was had Tony and Tim moving closer to Gibbs' side as they looked up at the picture on the plasma.

"How do you know, Boss?" Tim asked, almost afraid of the reaction.

"My gut," was the only answer he could give. In truth, the chain and manacle on the floor, the enclosed, cement room, even the wedding-white negligee had been clues. All it had taken was the unexplainable dream and a few minutes to put together everything he needed to know. And there was no way he would – or could – tell the rest of his team that he was relying on a sleeping vision and clues his own mind had come up with. But his gut was screaming at him that this was it, that this was who had Abby. He wasn't going to question that now.

A few taps on the clicker and the side shot of the kidnapper's face came up alongside of it. The service picture slid over the screen to overlay on the second shot, and an 86.99 percentage flashed.

"We got you," Gibbs growled. Turning around, he barked out, "Kate!" as he shoved the clicker into her hands.

Opening a file, she began to recite the few facts they knew about the suspect. "Petty Officer Barbara Swain was the last kidnap victim of Chaplain Brett Evans. When Tony found her, she bashed him over the head." She looked at Tony, smirking in her pleasure at the uncomfortable memory, until she saw Gibbs scowling at her from his desk. Quickly, she turned back to the plasma and clicked to a new screen.

Photos of the original crime scene aligned with shots of the second location where they had found the Petty Officer. The identical settings were eerie, sending a chill through Kate's spine. The chaplain had been kidnapping young women for years, forcing them to live in a single room, chained to a bed, made to be his 'wife.' The furniture and decorations were straight out of the 50's.

"Either her mind broke or she was desperate enough that the relationship with Evans became real. After her attack on Tony, she held a gun on him, demanding her husband."

Turning back to Gibbs, she wondered, "What happened to her? After the debriefing, I mean. Was there any follow up? Counseling? The woman had gone through hell."

Watching his boss' eyes glowering at Kate at her apparent sympathy towards Abby's kidnapper, Tony interjected, wanting to keep the investigation on track. "Nothing. After she was released, there's nothing of her anywhere. She just disappeared. No credit card recorders, no W-2s. Nothing. Just went off the grid."

Gibbs looked at his computer screen, a picture of Abby glowing from it. "Why Abby? Why her? Why not one of us? Tony, for locating her?"

Slamming his hands on his desk, Gibbs shouted, "How in the hell do we find Abby?"

Jumping in fear, Kate stifled the scream that almost escaped. Trying to focus, she turned back to the screen, making the pictures all line up, including Swain's service record photo.

"What if the Petty Officer's psychosis is so deep that she believes we caused Evans' suicide? That we took him from her? If she hasn't received any psychological help since her abduction and imprisonment, her mind might still be in the same state as when we found her."

Shaking his head, he stared at his hands, willing his mind to work out the problem. "Okay, say you're right, and she blames us for somehow killing Evans. Then how would Abby fit in?" He looked up at the plasma screen, his eyes squinting as he considered the problem. "She's the quickest way to all of us."

When his agents looked at him confused, he continued. "Abby's a part of us, all of us. Something happens to her, and everyone of us feels what Swain felt, but in the same instance."

"Get to Abby, get to us," Tony summed up.

"Exactly. And now she's got Abby somewhere, doing who knows what. We need her back, now!" I need her back, Gibbs added silently. As the minutes clicked by, the dream of Abby stayed with him, never leaving his consciousness. Though he was able to concentrate on bringing her home, the idea of being with her haunted his thoughts. He needed her back – now; to make her safe, to protector her, to help her heal, and to explore what had happened in his sleep.

She was his opposite, the peace to his inner war. Having her gone was eating away at his psyche, worry for her threatening to collapse him.

As a thought occurred to Tony, he jumped up, excited. "What if…okay, check this out. If Swain is really that out of it, maybe she's taken Abby somewhere that has some sort of significance to her relationship with Evans, some place that reminds her of the guy."

Gibbs popped his head up, meeting his senior agent's eyes with a deadlocked stare. "The bunker. She's got Abby in that damn bunker."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Tony stumbled from the car, Tim scrambled to throw up in the grass, and Kate tripped trying to get out. None of them had ever ridden in the car with Gibbs driving like that. He was a madman, a bat out of hell according to DiNozzo, and scared the hell out of all of them.

But nothing would stop his progress to Abby. He had to find her, had to stop Swain from hurting her any further. Only as he drove, his imagination decided to start supplying him with visions of the possible torture his girl was going through, torturing him with fear and guilt. He had to stop it.

Pulling out his Sig Sauer, Gibbs hesitated only a moment as the others gathered their wits before charging towards the bunker's entrance. Hearing the footsteps of the rest flanking him, Gibbs positioned himself next to the metal door, nodding for DiNozzo to open it.

The four agents progressed through the former military warehouse, clearing each room in the search for Abby. If their investigation had led them in the right direction, she would be housed in the same room Petty Officer Barbara Swain had been kept prisoner. However, they needed to make sure that no traps had been laid in ambush. Slowly and steadily, they cleared each room, their footsteps loud echoes on the cement floor, their heartbeats a dull echo in their minds. Down one corridor after another, the agents finally came to the hall they hoped contained the door to their friend.

With stealthy feet, they stalked down the seemingly endless hall, and Gibbs was overwhelmed with what could only be déjà vu. This was the hall from his dream. And like that surreal moment, it seemed to stretch out in front of him endlessly. But unlike the dream, the end came quickly.

From behind the seemingly solid door, he could hear the sounds of two people, women. One had an edge to it, loud and incessant. The other was weak, almost pitiful. And the lack of strength in that second voice made Gibbs' gut burn. His Abby was strength and life. The voice he was hearing now – and somehow he knew it was hers – lacked the vivacity of his girl.

And in the moment before they burst through the door, Gibbs vowed that he'd get that life back into her if he had to breathe it into her himself. Taking a final deep breath, he nodded to DiNozzo. Tony reared back and gave the door a resounding kick.

Splintering off the frame, the wood caved in and four agents burst through the entrance, guns trained in front of them. Guns swept the room, looking for possible threats. As the dust cleared, the sight that greeted chilled their blood, froze their guns in place.

"Abby," Gibbs said in shock, the pain evident in his voice. She sat, curled up on the bed, clothes gone from her body. He could see the strips of fabric littering the bed and floor around her, draping over the thick chain attached to her ankle. Dark bruises – purple and blue, so dark they seemed black – colored across her pale skin.

Though he hesitated for only a moment to take in Abby's appearance, his cop mind clicked in quickly and he trained his gun on the woman standing over the bed. The warm light from a lamp glittered off of the knife poised over Abby's prone body.

Next to him, DiNozzo called out, "Petty Officer Barbara Swain, you are under arrest. Drop the knife and put your hands on your head."

The NCIS agents steadily spread out in a pattern across the room, Gibbs taking the closest point to Abby, trying to ignore for the moment her injured and naked form.

"Drop the weapon, Swain!" Kate called out, echoing her partner.

Gibbs could see the inner workings of the woman's mind, could see the moment where she realized her plan of revenge was about to be stopped. And in the moment she screamed out "No!" and turned the knife over with the intent of plunging the blade into Abby's chest, he pulled the trigger.

He stood unflinching as repeated rounds from his Sig, as well as several from the team's weapons, emptied into Barbara Swain's body. Almost in slow motion, Gibbs watched as her torso jerked from the multiple, high-velocity collisions. Her fingers unfolded as the life drained from her, and the knife dropped to the floor, a hollow clang echoing with the screams that had started coming from Abby.

As Tony and Tim rushed over to check the body, Gibbs holstered his weapon and rushed to Abby's side, Kate calling in for an emergency team. Abby trembled in shock as he put his hands on her shoulders. Rubbing his thumbs along her skin, he tried to meet her eyes. Holding out his hand, he took the key Tim had found in Swain's pocket, the key that would unlock the manacle from Abby's leg. He turned away only briefly to release her.

"Abby. Abby, it's Gibbs. Come on, Abbs. Talk to me."

She couldn't believe, couldn't trust that her friends, her team, had found her. Hearing the shots, seeing her captor's body laid out on the floor, only served to enhance a fantasy-like understanding. But it was Gibbs' touch, the heat of him, that broke through the acceptance of her hallucinations and into the knowledge that he was here, actually with her.

"Gibbs?" Abby reached out one filthy hand to brush the back of her fingers against his cheek, trying to determine his truth. "Gibbs, it's really you. You're here? For real this time? Not in my dream again? I can't stand it if you're just dream-Gibbs again. Though the dream was amazing, I don't think I can take having you disappear from me again."

While her rambling seemed confusing to the rest of the team, Gibbs knew the truth behind her words. The dream. His dream. His dream of her. His dream with her.

"I'm real, Abby. I'm here; we all are. You're safe now, Abbs. I'm not going to leave you." Though it pained him to do so, he released her shoulders and picked up one of the dingy blankets behind her. Wrapping it around her body, he picked up her frail form, intent on getting her out of the prison cell and away from the death surrounding them.

"I've got you, Abbs."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It took several weeks, but Abby had finally begun to heal, both mentally and physically, with the warmth of her friends and in the circle of Gibbs' arms. Since he carried her out of her prison cell, Gibbs had rarely let her out of his sight, and only then for short times.

Not that Abby was complaining. It had taken a lot of convincing before she would release her death grip on Gibbs. With her daily visits from her hallucinations, it took her awhile to finally believe that he, as well as the rest of the team, wasn't going to leave her, that they were real.

The first few days she spent in the hospital, despite her understandable desire to go home. Once she was well enough to be released from the hospital, her days were filled with visits to different types of doctors, psychiatrists and psychologists, and interviews with the director. The concern for her wellbeing as obvious, but Abby knew they also had to make sure, that when the time was right, she'd be ready to go back to work safely. Director Vance's primary concern had been to make sure NCIS didn't have a forensic scientist who would crack under the pressure and whose work would stand up in court.

Abby understood all of that, she just didn't have to like all the pricking and prodding and questions. She wanted it to be done, wanted to move on.

When she had been released from the hospital, she'd been sure there was nothing more she wanted then to return home. But after unlocking the door to her apartment, Abby had found herself unable to step inside. It was too dark, too cold, and somehow danger lurked in the shadows. Fear froze her before she could step inside.

Standing closely behind her, Gibbs could feel the dread vibrating off of Abby's body. Fighting the sudden urge to pull her back into his arms and leave, he settled for putting his arm around her shoulders, drawing her into him for support. "You're safe, Abbs. Not gonna let you get hurt again." He turned and pressed a kiss to her head.

Following her inside, he stopped alongside of her when he realized a tear was sliding down her cheek. He stepped in front of her, putting a finger under her chin so that he could make her meet his eyes.

"I'm not going to let you go again. Got it?" He kissed her forehead when she nodded yes. "If you can't…" This time it was his turn to hesitate. From the moment he had carried her from that dank and dirty prison cell, Gibbs had been considering how to protect her.

Oh, who as he kidding, he thought. When he had finally been able to free her, he had been toying with the idea of asking to her to stay with him. In his guest bedroom, she'd be able to recuperate, sleep safely, and if something disturbed her dreams, he'd be right there to hold her. For himself, he'd be able to have the peace of mind of having her near. Plus, there was also the matter of that extraordinary dream he was sure they had shared.

But when she lifted her eyes at his hesitation, he just couldn't stammer the words out.

"If I can't…what?" she offered, her eyes pleading with him to finish his question.

The finger under her chin moved to become the hand that he cupped her cheek with. His thumb caressed her skin, as he considered what to say.

"Come home with me, Abbs. Stay with me. You need to know that you're safe, and I need to know you're okay." He didn't want to push it; she'd been through hell. But she had to know that he was there, that he would never leave her.

He watched as her eyes slid shut, and her head nodded yes. The stress visibly left her body as she finally allowed herself to relax. Pulling her closer to his body, he sighed in his own relief. He spoke against her hair. "Let's get you some stuff to take home."

Through the weeks, Abby's bruises had healed, with only the faintest green tinge on the worst of them. The knife marks would take longer to heal, though the skin had healed over to leave only angry red lines. Nightmares still plagued her, though not nearly as much now that some time had passed. Gibbs and the rest of the team spent their days making sure that she was never alone, or at least for long. And with their help and their love, her mind had begun to heal as well.

After the first night, her screams of terror causing Gibbs to charge into her room, Abby had started spending the nights in Gibbs' bed, his arm pulling her in close. His warmth helped to sooth her mind and chase away the dreams and memories. These nights were spent in platonic companionship. They talked quietly, holding each other, letting the dark soothe instead of frighten. Eventually, she talked to him about her time as a prisoner, told him the details she hadn't been able to confess to any of her interviewers. And he held her while the tears spilt, whispering words of comfort.

Their contact with each other had started chaste; he held her, and she clung to him. Gradually, soft touches and gentle kisses grew from that connection.

And then, one night, with her body healing and her mind calming, Abby turned in his arms. This night, her body trembled, not from fear, but from need. She locked her eyes on his as he dipped his head, his lips brushing hers, as if to make sure she was okay with his touch. When she didn't pull away, she heard him whisper before kissing her more fully.

"I've got you, Abbs."

Fin.


End file.
